t was difficult to interrupt her. The gravel grated under
their feet; the rooks were flying about the elms. At the end of the
garden there was a circle of fig trees. A silent place, and John vowed
he would say the word there. But as they approached his courage died
within him, and he was obliged to defer his vows until they reached the
green-house.

"So your time is fully occupied here."

"And in the afternoon we go out for drives; we pay visits. You never
pay visits; you never go and call on your neighbours."

"Oh, yes I do; I went the other day to see your father."

"Ah yes, but that is only because he talks to you about Latin authors."

"No, I assure you it isn't. Once I have finished my book I shall never
look at them again."

"Well, what will you do?"

"Next winter I intend to go in for hunting. I have told a dealer to look
out for a couple of nice horses for me."

Kitty looked up, her grey eyes wide open. If John had told her that he
had given the order for a couple of crocodiles she could not have been
more surprised.

"But hunting is over now; it won't begin again till next November. You
will have to play lawn tennis this summer."

"I have sent to London for a racquet and shoes, and a suit of flannels."

"Goodness me.... Well, that is a surprise! But you won't want the
flannels; you might play in the Carmelite's habit which came down the
other day. How you do change your mind about things!"

"Do you never change your mind, Kitty?"

"Well, I don't know, but not so suddenly as you. Then you are not going
to become a monk?"

"I don't know, it depends on circumstances."

"What circumstances?" said Kitty, innocently.

The words "_whether you will or will not have me_" rose to John's lips,
but all power to speak them seemed to desert him; he had grown suddenly
as weak as melting snow, and in an instant the occasion had passed. He
hated himself for his weakness. The weary burden of his love lay still
upon him, and the torture of utterance still menaced him from afar. The
conversation had fallen. They were approaching the greenhouse, and the
cats ran to meet their patron. Sammy sprang on Kitty's shoulder.

"Oh, isn't he a beauty? stroke him, do."

John passed his hand along the beautiful yellow fur. Sammy rubbed his
head against his mistress' face, her raised eyes were as full of light
as the pale sky, and the rich brown head and the thin hands made a
picture in the exquisite clarity of the English